


He's Nothing Special

by goth_on_ham



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Manipulation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 08:56:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11354115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goth_on_ham/pseuds/goth_on_ham
Summary: Ed wakes up in a warehouse with two men who mean to degrade and torture him. He is sure Oswald hired them, but Oswald isn't his only enemy in Gotham.





	He's Nothing Special

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request I got on tumblr. 
> 
> Set during s3. After Oswald was shot but it's pretty canon divergent. 
> 
> Warnings for rape and the other tags that this fic is under.

“I don’t know what Penguin saw in him.”

“You kidding?”

“He’s nothing special.”

“Yeah, but I like the leggy ones.”

“I suppose he’s got a decent ass on him.”

Voices. It took Ed a few seconds to realise that they were talking about him. His mind was still foggy with pain. He couldn’t remember much.

He attempted to sit up, but it hurt. His hands were tied behind his back with coarse rope. It irritated his skin, rubbing it raw every time he tried to move.

“Shit he’s waking up.”

“Put the gag on him.”

He felt his mouth being jerked open and something leather was shoved into it. His eyes shot open and he let out a short cry, tried to bite down, but it was too late. 

“Just in time.” 

“Wakey wakey, sweetheart.” 

The voices belonged to two men. Both looked like they were somewhere in their thirties. They were stocky, with short buzzcuts and nasty sneers. They wore identical grey-white jerseys, dark blue work pants and heavy brown boots that were scuffed at the toes. 

Ed tried to talk, but he couldn’t. He could only make unintelligible noises and when he did, he drooled through the leather ring they had jammed into his unsuspecting mouth. 

The men laughed cruelly at him.

“He’s eager.” One joked to the other. 

“I know. The slut can’t wait to get our cocks down his throat.” The second one jeered.

Ed’s blood ran cold at those words. He balked, moving backwards on his ass until one of the men grabbed him by the hair, pulling it hard with his fist. He let out a muffled cry. There was a sharp sound, and pain exploded all over the left side of his face. 

“You’re not going anywhere.” The man growled, his angry face a blur through Ed’s tears. He told himself that it was a reaction to the slap, nothing more. 

“That’s right, you’re ours for the next twenty-four hours and we’re gonna make the most of it.”

Ed’s eyes grew wide, and he pushed up on his legs to run. To escape. To get away. The door would undoubtably be locked, but he had to _try._

He got no further than a couple of steps before he was seized and thrown back onto the ground. He let out cries of pain as a boot sank into his stomach, then his ribs, then his stomach again. Saliva dribbled out of his mouth onto the floor, humiliating him, reminding him that he had so little control over things that he couldn’t even keep from slavering like a dog or an infant. 

He felt something crack and the man kicking him must have felt it too, because he swore, and stopped. 

“Shit. We weren’t meant to break anything.”

“It’s fine. Just a rib.” The other man lifted Ed up so he was back onto his knees. His body protested the movement with sharp, stabbing pain and Ed yelped, trying to move away, trying to get back onto the ground. It didn’t work. He was slapped across the back of the head. “Behave.” 

A hand fisted in his hair and pulled his head up. The man in front of him had unzipped his fly and was stroking himself. Rough, steady tugs that made his breath hitch and his face colour pink. Ed whimpered and tried to draw back again, but it was impossible. There was no escape.

One man kept him still while the other forced his cock through the gag and into Ed’s wet, unwilling mouth. When one was done, they would switch places. 

Ed would have bitten their members off if he could. Fantasies of doing this to them kept him sane for the first minutes, but their effect dwindled when his jaw began to ache and throb. By that point, he would have begged if he could, so long as it stopped them.

He didn’t know who had sent them or why, but one name radiated and pulsed through his mind with fury and contempt. 

Oswald.

He had done this to him. Killing Isabella hadn’t been enough, he had to hurt him further. He had to degrade him.

He would kill him, and he would do it properly this time.

“Fuck. We got to turn him over. I want a piece of that ass.” One man said, with his cock still shoved deep into Ed’s throat. His voice was low, it was _hungry._

Ed pushed back to get away, but once again it was useless. 

“Look at him trying to move around. I bet he just can’t wait for our cocks in his ass.” The one holding him remarked, and the other snorted in amusement.  

He stepped backwards, giving Ed’s mouth a break for the first time in several minutes. “I’m going first.”

“Wait a minute-“

“I’m all keyed up now. I’ll burst if I don’t.”

“Then finish in his mouth.”

“Hell no. I want his ass.”

Ed couldn’t be grateful for the respite, not when he had to listen to them talk about raping him. Both men were large and thick, and his stomach lurched in terror at the thought of them forcing themselves into him. 

When he moved too much during the argument, the man holding him snarled. The argument had aggravated him enough that he hit too hard, and Ed fell to the ground and into unconsciousness. 

—

“I’m not so sure about this. Don’t get me wrong, I hate Nygma more than anyone, but this doesn’t sit well with me.” Butch said, wincing in discomfort as he half-watched the monitor. As he spoke, the men had bent Ed’s unconscious form over a wooden box. They tugged down his pants and underwear, but Ed didn’t stir.

Barbara laughed dismissively. “If it bothers you, don’t watch it.”

“That’s not the issue here.”

“Calm down, alright? This is the perfect way to get him to hate Penguin even more, and we _need_ that. He’s useful to us.” She put a hand on Tabitha’s back, but the other woman didn’t react. Her eyes were fixed on the monitor. When one of the men slapped Ed hard on the ass to wake him up, the side of her lip twitched. “Besides, think of it as revenge for what he did to you and Tabby. We’re killing two birds with one stone.” 

“Nice pun, but seriously…” He grimaced when Ed woke up. His mouth free from the gag, he was able to beg and threaten and plead. He did all, in that order. Then he screamed in pain when the first man thrust inside of him. “There’s a line.”

Barbara rolled her eyes. “This is why you’ll always be a sidekick, Butch.”

—

Ed felt like he was going to throw up. He could barely breathe. The man’s body pressed against his back, putting more and more pressure on him and making him feel sharp shocks of pain from his broken rib. But that was nothing compared to the pain he felt behind him. Each jagged thrust of the man’s hips brought more tears to his eyes and new pleas to his lips. 

He badly wished he was unconscious again. 

The man leaned in and began to kiss him on the neck, and Ed tried to jerk away, because the mock affection only added to his humiliation. 

“Ah, ah… I’m being nice to you right now, sweetheart. You don’t want to make me angry.” He punctuated his words with an especially hard thrust and Ed howled. “Believe me I can make this hurt worse.”

“S-Stop- Stop, stop!” He couldn’t think to say anything else. Even a mind as brilliant as his had a point where it could no longer transform its feelings and sensations into words for him to speak. 

All he could do was feel. He could feel the pain. The humiliation. The anger. 

He thought about wringing Oswald’s neck. Of choking the life out of him. He would beg like he was begging now. He’d cry. But Ed wouldn’t stop. 

He wouldn’t have him facing away from him, like he was to the man assaulting him. He would look into his eyes as he did it.

There was a loud bang. A door being knocked down? Then another, more familiar sound. A gunshot. 

The man behind him pulled out, but then there was another bang, and he fell back and his large, lifeless body dropped over Ed. Bleeding on him. Ed gasped and tried to wriggle out from underneath him, but the weight was too much.

“Ed?!”

_Oswald._

He heard Oswald grunting and with considerable effort, he managed to push the man off of Ed’s back. 

A flick of a switchblade and Ed felt the rope around his wrists being gradually cut away. 

“Ed, I came as soon as I could. I had Victor tailing you. He saw the men take you to this warehouse, and he told me. I never dreamed that-“ His wrists were free and Ed pulled his pants up. Then, before Oswald could finish speaking, he turned around and grabbed Oswald by the throat.

“Ed!” Oswald spluttered, before Ed squeezed so tight that he couldn’t speak. 

—

“Fuck.” Butch thumped his metal hand against the wall. “It’s over. We got to call the guys and get them there to take them both out.”

“Don’t be too sure. He still thinks Penguin did this to him. He’ll kill him.” Barbara replied, staying stubbornly optimistic. 

“Then we send the guys round to kill Nygma too.” Tabitha added insistently. Barbara smiled and squeezed her shoulder.

“Whatever you want, babes.”

Butch looked back at the monitor. Ed was still throttling Oswald, but he didn’t like it. He had been against this plan from the start.

—

Ed’s cuffs were stained with blood. The rope had cut him because of all his struggling. But although they hurt, it was nothing compared to how he hurt elsewhere. Inside and out, everything _hurt._

Oswald was wearing a pale purple tie, and short of breath, his skin almost began to match that hue. Ed had seen the tie before. 

He had bought it for him. 

“E-Ed- Ed… S-Stop…” Oswald barely got the words out. He must have only managed it through sheer willpower, because Ed was sure he should have been unconscious by now. 

His eyes misted over with tears. 

He let go and pressed his hands to his face instead. Hunched over, he began to sob.

Oswald hacked and coughed, but as soon as he was able, he put a hand on Ed’s arm. Ed could have melted into him, but he was afraid. 

Oswald was a liar. He was a traitor. It could all be a ruse. He could have hired the men and killed them just to win Ed back. To trick him into believing he was his saviour. To deceive him into believing he cared about him. 

Why was he still wearing the tie Ed had bought him? 

“Edward. I’m sorry. I should never have…” Oswald swallowed. He stopped speaking. He put his other hand to Ed’s other arm. “Ed, we should get out of here.”

Ed was shaking. He couldn’t move. He wanted out of this place but he didn’t know where Oswald would take him. What if he took him somewhere worse? What if it was a trap?

“We’ll go home.” Oswald promised. “We’ll forget we ever fought. Everything will be fine.”

“No.” Ed whispered. The hoarseness of his words surprised him, although it shouldn’t have. His throat felt like it was on fire and his jaw hurt every time it moved. “No. You betrayed me. You could be lying to me now.”

“Ed, I swear-“

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” He demanded, voice raising slightly, quivering as it did.

Through the fog of his tears, he could see Oswald’s face contort in pain. 

“I suppose you don’t.” He confessed quietly. “But we’re old friends. So please, Ed. Try to trust me.”

—

“Why did he stop?” Barbara asked, exasperated and angry. “This is ridiculous. I can’t believe he stopped.”

“I told you something would go wrong.” Butch replied under his breath, which got him a stern glare from the new Queen of Gotham.

“Shut up.” She hissed. Distracted by arguing with Butch, she missed Ed standing up, leaning on Oswald for support, and leaving the warehouse with him.


End file.
